


To wish for what was, to hate what is

by Soup1039



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Character Death, Dementia, Denial, F/F, Heavy Angst, Just...pain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-29
Updated: 2020-12-29
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:20:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28398351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Soup1039/pseuds/Soup1039
Summary: ALL CREDIT TO EVANGELION FOR IDEA—————-Lena and Kara grow old together, in different ways.TW: Denial, major angst/feels, character death.Un-betaed, sorry for any mistakes!
Relationships: Kara Danvers/Lena Luthor
Comments: 12
Kudos: 42





	To wish for what was, to hate what is

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TheEvangelion](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheEvangelion/gifts).



“Gosh, I love you,” Kara says, pressing a kiss to Lena’s bare shoulder, trying to sneak around to dip a finger in the cake mix she’s mixing, only to be met with a playful swat.

“I do too darling, but not enough for you to dip your fingers inside Charlie’s birthday cake.” Lena smiles, turning to quickly peck Kara on the lips right as, if on cue, Charlie wobbles into the room as fast as he can, several other sticky-handed five and six year olds trailing and screaming in delight.

“Cake? Mama?” He asks, grasping Kara’s leg and blinking up with an asymmetrical, toothy, smile.

“Soon baby, soon,” is all Kara says as she hoists him onto her hip and starts to return to the living room. “For now, how about we all go outside and play a big round of tag?”

“Luthor-style? Pretty please?” Charlie begs, putting on his biggest Supergirl-style pout.

With a little laugh Kara replies “That look doesn’t work on me kiddo, but luckily you’re still adorable so I have to say yes,” opening the door to go into the small suburban yard of the house, calling out _“Stay close everyone! I don’t want anybody getting run over or hurt today”_ as nearly a dozen children bolt out the door to be the first in line for tag. Lena laughs as she watches Charlie and his friends sprint around the yard, occasionally flashing into view in the back area via the handy kitchen window, giggles at how Kara gets more and more frustrated at the antics of all the tiny toddlers on their property. She finishes up the cake and sets it in the oven to bake, then, realizing how long it would take to cook and cool it, pulls it out and pours the batter into a bunch of little chicken pot pie pans. They’re a little bigger then cupcake tins, and it only takes about half the time for them to come out of the oven and start to cool. From Lena’s estimation the toddlers outdoors were going to become hangry and fussy from all the exertion any minute, so she decidedly shoves the cakes in the freezer and whips out some whipped frosting and, after splitting it into a couple of bowls, dyes it a range of colors. If there’s anything that she’s learned about motherhood, it’s that creativity, sweets, and social activities are the best way to keep a fussy toddler at bay(One time, when Charlie was three, she was able to keep both him and Kara occupied at a business dinner with nothing but a coloring book, jelly beans, and encouraging the two of them to work together on a picture. Kara loathes anytime Lena brings it up).

“Desserts ready everyone!” Lena calls, looking as all twelve or thirteen—or was it fourteen? Shit, she really needed to have a RSVP list to know how many kids she had coming to her house— kids breathe a sigh of relief and start to tramp back into the house. She watches as Kara somehow ensures everyone washes their hands, doesn’t stick their fingers where they don’t belong, picks their drink, and sits at the table in a toddler-acceptable manner (Lena still has no idea what that means, only that according to Charlie, Alvin and Mary can’t sit next to each other for “complicated” reasons).

“Okay everyone, here’s the deal. You all get a mini cake and plastic spreader. Across the table is a bunch of bowls of frosting with different colors. I’m gonna demonstrate with me and Kara’s bowl how you should decorate so everyone’s happy, okay?” Lena looks at all the toddlers, sighs a little, and resides to the fact that sixty percent of them will listen and the other forty percent will be inattentive and mix everything into vomit brown. She takes a spoon out of the cyan frosting bowl, plops it on her cake, and starts spreading it with her personal spreader. “Okay, so you’re gonna take the frosting spoon from the bowl you want, then put it on top of your cake like I just did. After that, you put the spoon right back where you got it from, and spread the frosting with your spreader. Now to make sure everyone has enough, only take two scoops of frosting total at first. That way everyone has enough, okay?” All the children stare blankly at her, only comprehending the words “frosting”, “eat”, and “spread”, and Lena sighs before allowing them to begin. It’s a headache causing mess from the beginning, and by the end it’s a satisfying tantrum causing tired child making event. Lena thanks god that the party is over shortly after, and sends Charles off to bed early to prevent the dreaded sugar downfall, cleaning up most of the mess and disposing the tablecloth in one fell swoop.

“Baby, you can come relax. I’ll take care of the rest later,” Kara says, taking a sip from a glass of wine, making Lena turn to her and handing her another full glass.

“No, I want to take care of it now before we promptly forget and I still have to clean it later,” she grumbles in reply, still letting herself be plopped on the couch and have her tight ponytail undone.

“Well I want to watch a kitschy gay or lesbian movie and cuddle with my wife.” Kara says, leaning heavily into her , draping one arm around her to grab the remote and flick through the films on the TV.

“ _But I’m A Cheerleader?_ ” Lena snorts, taking a long drink of the wine in front of her.

“Yup. But first, before we watch it, we gotta get you in some comfy clothes,” Without another second of pause, Kara stands and wraps Lena over her shoulder, ignoring the pounding at her back and feeble hissing from the latter to be let down right that instant. Of course, Kara pays the remarks no mind and plops Lena on their bed, scavenges through their drawers, and pulls out their oldest, most comfortable, froggy sweater and matching pants. _You’re not playing fair, you know what that thing does to me,_ Lena grumbles with a little smile, still pretending to be angry even though she practically purrs as Kara helps her change then gently brushes through her hair until all the kinks and knots are taken out. They return to the living room and huddle in each other’s arms like teenagers who’re being left alone for the night, laughing and giggling and eating way too much candy and just basking in the glow of the ecstasy of their marriage.

“I love you,” Lena finally whispers into Kara’s shoulder as they lay on the couch, the credits of the movie playing in the background as she nuzzles into Kara’s chest, falling asleep but not quite there.

“I love you more,” is the response she gets, and it takes all the energy she has left just to mutter “Okay, forever girl,” because the contentment of the moment is seeping in her bones, and she’s hardly awake as it is. There’s a little shuffle as she’s carried to the bed, and then everything is right, and perfect, and nothing could be better, she thinks as she falls asleep.

(The next morning, Lena can’t even be mad about the frosting situation. She’s too busy grumbling into a cup of coffee that Kara let her sleep in a hour or two late.)

*****

“Goddammit Kara do you always have to be so goddamn selfless?” Lena spits, walking around the side of the bed to aggressively tuck her wife into the covers and check that the IV is administered properly. “You just had to be a goddamn fucking hero didn’t you? You couldn’t wait one fucking god damn minute until backup came. ‘ _Oh don’t worry it’ll be fine Lena I’m invincible!_ ’ Well guess what? You’re not and now I have to be your fucking babysitter because you decided to fucking run into a building full of fucking kryptonite shards! I’m too fucking old for this, you know that right? While you’re twenty and healthy and buoyant I’m fifty! I’m gonna have a goddamn heart attack and break a hip if you keep doing this.” She continues to ramble, spinning on her heel as Kara smugly holds a hand out, in which Alex spitefully drops a twenty dollar bill. “And you,” Lena points, “You couldn’t of held her back for two fucking minutes? You’re her sister for god fucking sake you’re supposed to keep her safe!” After a moment's pause, she just gestures for Alex to leave. “Please. Just leave us for five minutes. I have to have a conversation with this stupid fucking knuckle head.” Alex practically sprints out the door, and Kara turns to look Lena in the eyes, mouth wide with a guilty smile and eyes like a deer caught in headlights.

“Lena it’s really not that bad, the doctors got all the shards out I’ll be f-“

“Nope don’t you fucking say it Kara. You’re not fine, and I’m done with you pretending it is. We’re getting older, and I can’t handle the thought of one day you not coming home. What happens then, huh? Charlie and I are alone and you’re out there laying dead on the street!” Lena breathes out, voice wobbling. “Look, from here on out until next Sunday I am staying with you twen-ty-four-seven. Compeesh? You won’t move without my say so. You won’t go out without me. Hell, you won’t even shit without me. I’m not doing this whole “I’m fine” thing until you actually are fine, okay?”

“I’m really sorry, and I know that’s not much, but I really truly am,” her wife starts, looking even more guilty. “I promise I won’t leave you. I can't.” After a moment Kara smiles and mutters “...because honestly that was really hot,” and Lena throws her hands into the air with a resentful sigh , turning around so her wife can’t hear her burst into silent laughter.

“God, you’ve literally been pierced with a thousand shards of kryptonite and you’re still speaking in innuendos?” Lena says, rolling her eyes as the troublemaker in front of her just shrugs and winks. She climbs into the hospital bed with her wife, hugs and snuggles her and cherishes her, and she would have made love with her wife right then and there if a scarred Alex hadn’t waltzed back in at the worst moment.

“I love you,” Lena mutters into Kara’s torn up shoulder, squeezing her tightly.

“I love you more.”

“I know you do darling, but you’re my forever girl so it works out.” With a little peck, the two of them both drift off to sleep, and for a moment, the world is right.

*****

“Charlie, Kara doesn’t have dementia,” Lena sighs, exasperated in the all the wrong ways. “She’s just growing older and being around someone that’s human and growing at a different pace makes her brain try and adapt to my actions. She’s nearly immortal, darling, it’s impossible for that to happen.”

“Mom, she's past the point of natural neurological development. She’s losing track of things. She’s losing memories. She’s losing herself.” Charlie explains over the phone, sounding like he’s talking to a child.

“No. She. Is. Not. Charlie,” Lena snaps in reply, enunciating each word. “She’s an elderly woman whose had severe trauma from her battles. It’s only right she’s a little behind in neurological development. Now if you excuse me, I’m going to my anniversary dinner. Goodbye.” With an angry press, Charlie is out of mind and Lena spins, seeing Kara blankly looking at her from across the living room.

“Who was that?” Her wife asks, cocking her head a little, as if trying to put the pieces back together. “Is Charlie back at college already?”

“No, no, darling,” Lena soothes, walking over and rubbing Kara’s shoulder. “He’s across town with Emma, remember? He graduated two years ago.”

Even though she still looks puzzled, Kara slowly nods and says “ _oh yeah that’s right,”_ as if trying to convince herself. She holds out a wrapped present for Lena, smiles a little, and says “For our anniversary.”

The gift is a new frog sweatshirt, just like the one from twenty years ago, from when Charlie spilled juice all over the old one. Their current comfy shirt _is_ getting old, Lena reminds herself, painting on a smile and acting ecstatic at the mere event that Kara got her a present. After that, they sit together and watch _But I’m A Cheerleader,_ and life is good and simple, and Lena is content.

It almost makes her forget that their anniversary isn’t until four months later.

*****

“Sweetie, no, I’m Lena, your wife!” Lena grabs Kara’s hands, the latter of which looks frightened and blank, cogs frantically turning as she backs up.

“No, no, no, I’m sorry but I don’t know you you’re not my wife my wife is Lena Luther she’s 32 and she has our son Charlie.” Her wife stutters, turning, hands shaking, bumping into the wall and accidentally tearing down the plaster, squeaking in fright. Lena grabs her phone and with shaking hands dials Alex, pressing it to her ear and taking a step back from the shaking god in front of her.

“God, Alex, you need to come help. Kara’s forgotten who I am and she’s forgotten her powers and I don’t know what to do, she’s, she’s, she’s bumping into things and I don’t know I’m scared Alex god I’m scared,” Lena pumps out, anxiously pacing and trying to simultaneously calm down her wife.

The only response she gets is a sigh. “Lena. You know what you need to do. Get the sedative and administer it in her neck. I’ll be there in five minutes,” Alex’s voice is deadly calm and steady, as if it’s a speech prepared and rehearsed time and time again before this moment.

“No, no, no, she’s not an animal I can’t sedate her no that’s wrong I’m just worried she’s disoriented Alex she’s scared she’s not an animal,” Lena continues to rasp, stuttering and trying to justify that the problem is just some fluke, just some minor item that could be fixed and snapped away.

“Lena. You know what to do. Do it,” Alex commands, the zippering of a coat in the background. Before she can retort, the line cuts off and Lena takes a deep breath. Maybe it’s for the best, she thinks, moving to the secret cabinet that’s disguised as a vent, shakily pulling on some gloves and using the alcohol swab to clean the syringe and putting five milliliters of the kryptonite laced syringe and hiding it and walking up to her wife and lunging and pushing it in her neck and finally finally the little god starts to fall asleep and Lena cries as she holds her wife in her arms because she’s no longer a loving spouse. She’s a fear-causing stranger and intruder in her own home.

Two minutes later, Alex arrives and finds them in the same exact position as they were when Kara was first sedated. She peels Lena off of Kara, then pushes Kara onto a stretcher and takes her into a DEO ambulance. The only thing Lena can do is watch, stare, and eventually pile into the back of the ambulance and stare in silence at her wife. Sixty-five years of living may not have changed her physically, but it might have mentally, Lena thinks, hoping her own thoughts aren’t true. She numbly follows Alex and the other agent into the DEO headquarters, watches from behind a glass wall as her wife is hooked up to tubes and wires and all sorts of machines, and all she can do is hope and stare and wait.

“I love you, forever girl,” she whispers, pressing a hand to the glass, hoping, naively, that everything will be okay.

*****

“Kara, it’s time for dinner,” Lena calls, setting down a plate.

“Who are you?” Her former wife asks, still going to sit at one end of the table. It takes all the effort Lena can to not lean down and kiss her forehead as she circles around, but it’s slowly getting easier not to as time goes by. It’s becoming easier to be a stranger.

“An old friend,” she sighs, pushing and pulling her own plate of spaghetti around and never eating it.

“You’ve got to eat you know,” Kara says, blinking blankly across from her, having a single moment of clarity that hurts more then all the times of vague memories and actions.

“Yes darling, I will,” she assures, eating a large bite to put the god turned little girl to rest in front of her. After dinner, Kara insists on washing the dishes, singing a song from thirty years ago, and nearly cries because she can’t see the toddler version of Charlie. It hurts, Lena thinks, but it would hurt much more if she had to see her wife in a nursing home—or worse, a DEO lab—for the rest of her days.

A few hours later, Charlie pulls up to the door. Kara always went to bed at ten, insisting she had to work at Cat Corp the next day, even though she hadn’t gone in for the last thirty years, so the sound of the knock at the front door is unmissable in the deafening silence of the house.

“Mom,” Charlie says, stepping into the door as if to cement his presence.

“Charlie,” Lena stares, chest puffed.

“Can we talk?”

“About your mama?”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Mom, please, give me five minutes. I promise it’ll be worth your time I’m sure you’ve heard worse from business partners.”

After a stand off-ish moment Lena steps aside and sighs. “Five minutes. Living room. Sit.” She shuffles and collapses on the couch cushion, staring at her son with apathetic malice. God, when did her family become strangers? She thinks, staring at her son that seemed to have grown over night. 

“Mom, you’re 75. Mamas going to outlast you by nearly 225 years. You’re going to get worse, we both know that, and at some point you can’t just take care of her anymore, you have to acc-“

“I am not taking care of her Charlie. She’s just been struggling lately and I’m helping her out, like any spouse would.”

“Mom she’s been struggling for more then a decade. What happens when she has another episode? And she uses her powers against you? You can’t defend yourself you can hardly get around without a walker!” Charlie shoots, frustrated and gesturing at Lena.

“She is my wife, Charlie. I know for a fact she wouldn’t use her powers against me. She loves me for God's sake,” Lena feebly shoots back.

“She’s a stranger mom. That’s not Kara anymore, that’s a husk you keep on dragging on. You have to let her go,” Charlie says, putting a hand on her knee and tossing a small metal item, something that looks like a usb drive, on the table. “I developed this AI. It has a replication of all your memories, all your thoughts, and it’s the same way for me. Whenever Mama thinks something, boom,” Charlie snaps, “it’s there. She’ll be comfortable. She'll be happy. And most importantly, she’ll be safe.”

“And what about me? I’ll be pushed to the sidelines and disappear forever from her life.” Lena says, crossing her arms in frustration.

“You already are mom. She doesn’t recognize you anymore, she wakes up everyday and forgets you a little more. At this point, you’re just a random person in her life.”

“Bullshit.”

“It’s true Mom.” Charlie sighs, looks away, and looks back at Lena. “I didn’t want to say this, but I got permission from the DEO to forcibly install cameras inside the house to monitor you and Mama. I can’t force you to use my technology, I can only encourage it and hope you pick the right choice.” He stands, and moves to the door. “Please do the right thing Mom. I miss you.”

Lena sits for a few minutes in the dark living room, contemplates, and promptly throws the usb at the wall. It doesn’t break, but that doesn’t matter. The idea is there, and now it’s out of mind until absolutely necessary, she thinks, hobbling to the bathroom and brushing her teeth and getting ready for bed. She looks into the main bedroom where Kara sleeps, still on the left side as if her body remembers what used to be. She climbs into bed, and, tentatively, touches the stranger’s shoulder.

“Hi baby,” the sleepy stranger mutters.

“I love you.” Lena says, meaning it, wanting to peck her former wife on the nose but knowing that’s much too far for a woman tormented by her mind.

“I love you more.”

“I know darling, but it’s alright because you’re my forever girl,” Lena says, slipping out of bed and hobbling to her bedroom, to her own cold right side of the bed. Everything will be okay, she thinks, it always is.

*****

Two months later, Lena stares at the USB in her hand and spins it around. A small box arrived about a month and a half ago, no bigger then a coffee maker, and only now does Lena open that box and realize the usb fits perfectly inside the slot on the front side. After a beeping noise and a quick sound of cogs moving, a voice announces _Danvers-Luthor AI, V3.17_ , and a nanotechnology version of toddler Charlie boots up right in front of Lena's eyes, frozen in motion, a smile on his face. After a second, he sprints forward, dancing around the house with giggles and laughter. Kara comes spinning in just a moment after, looking happier then she had in decades. For the stranger in front of her, Lena realizes, the world finally makes sense.

Five minutes later, the frame shifts, Charlie slowly disappearing and twenty-five year old Lena phasing in on the couch beside the real version, holding a glass of wine mid laugh.

“Oh be quiet Kara we just got Charlie to sleep,” Fake-Lena giggles.

Kara just smiles and pounces on Fake-Lena, tickling her and making jokes, seeming happy and content and finally waking from a deep dream. Real Lena watches, and ponders, and eventually turns the thing off. She’ll call it Itsy, she thinks, something as objective and impermanent as its objects creator itself. It’s ironic, really, because at this point the names should be switched: Kara doesn’t recognize real Lena at all, and thinks of her as an imposter in her own home. She thinks Itsy is the real person in her life, the real wife and child she bonded with over the decades. Still, Real-Lena thinks, pixels can never replace flesh and bone and soul, as unfortunate as that sentiment is.

Five days later, Real-Lena sits on her comfortable chair, and kicks on Itsy. “You’re Real-Lena now,” she murmurs at the confused AI, who stares at her like she’s speaking a foreign language. Lena just smiles and relaxes, and finally lets herself fully destress. Kara’s in good hands, she knows, and it’s comforting. It takes her little time to drift off, and it’s to the comforting tune of Kara and Real-Lena humming and dancing in the kitchen, finally complete with each other

Three days later, the DEO pulls up and finds Lena Luthor dead. The AI Charlie created doesn’t notice the scent of decaying flesh, and neither does Kara. The latter just goes about and tucks in Charlie, fixes fake dinners, and lives in her own little world. She’s comfortable, finally, even if it’s without the stranger that was once her wife.

As the body’s carried out, Kara doesn’t falter. She simply keeps on dancing with the AI, and keeps on laughing about the birthday party and many cakes Charlie needs for his friends.

She doesn’t even notice when the funeral happens.


End file.
